For The Best
by xoxoVanillaOrchidxoxo
Summary: Sometimes a hard decision is for the best... and sometimes it isn't. For the IWSC.


**A/N: Written for the International Wizarding School Championship.**

**In this AU, I have made Hermione sick and Draco in love with her.**

**Many thanks to all my wonderful Betas!**

**School:** Beauxbatons

**Year:** 4

**Theme:** Department of Magical Law Enforcement

**Main Prompt: **[Genre] Crime

**Side Prompts: **[Behaviour] Sneaky, [Quote] "If you want to know what a man's like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals." - Sirius Black [GOF]

**Word Count:** 1205

* * *

The first time Draco had seen her before the war, he'd been taken aback by the sight of her, and all that _hair. _

The first time he'd seen her _during_ the war, he'd been taken aback by reality rearing its ugly head, making him remember that this was all real. The war was real. The death of Dumbledore. Voldemort.

_Voldemort. _The creature who was making him kill _her_ in exchange for his mother's life. On the Ministry's orders, of course. Officially his job was that similar to an Auror - albeit a perverted version of an Auror under the new leadership. He was supposed to bring her into the Ministry as Undesirable Number 2, but had been given orders on the side by the Death Eaters to kill her in the process. Draco didn't understand—he was still a child in many ways, used as a pawn in this sadistic game of life and death.

Draco hung out by the outskirts of the so-called "Golden Trio's" tent, out of sight, out of range of the wards. He'd placed a tracker on the Mudblood—Merlin, he _hated _that word now, but if he thought of her as anything else, he'd lose the nerve to go through with this mission. He'd cast the spell on her at Dumbledore's funeral and had made it unnoticeable—and irreversible.

Draco sighed. He knew he wouldn't get the opportunity to kill her immediately, so he slumped against the tree he was leaning against, puffing the cold November air out of his lungs. He closed his eyes and wrapped his scarf around his neck just a bit tighter, hoping to fall into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

The first time he'd noticed her—really, _truly _noticed her, it had been in DADA, fifth year. Of course he'd _seen _her at the Yule Ball—hell, 90% of the population of teenage wizards and witches had _seen _her, but he hadn't _noticed _her until she'd stood up to Umbridge. That was when he'd realised that there was a war going on and that he'd be a part of it, like it or not. Much to his self-resentment, however, he'd been pressed into working for Voldemort before he could escape. First Dumbledore, then _her. _He'd admired her ever since they were fifteen—she stood up for herself and others, and though he'd been taught to despise Mudbloods and half-bloods because they were beneath him, he couldn't help his fascination with the curly-haired genius who challenged him in nearly all of his classes. He didn't _want _to kill her. She'd always been gentle and kind to the smallest of creatures, with the exception of him—and Draco knew he deserved the ire she'd given him. But he knew he must. It was her or his mother: The woman he admired or the woman he loved. It was a hard decision, one Draco knew he didn't have the strength to make.

* * *

The first time he'd seen her on this pivotal day, he woke to a noise crunching in the distance—footsteps on the crisp, frozen leaves below. Draco scrambled to his feet, drawing his wand from the folds of his sleeves. Too late, though, he realised that his invisibility shields were down and that he wouldn't be able to hide himself in time. He felt the pressure of a wand tip between his shoulder blades and spun around quickly, instinctively falling into his favored duelling position. His eyes widened as his brain took in the fierce fugitive that Hermione Granger had become. Her eyes mirrored his as they widened in shock, and before she could say a word, Draco cast a quick _Muffliato. _

"What the _hell _are you _doing_ here?" Granger hissed, only loosening her joints slightly from the crouched position they had been in before.

_Here we go, _Draco thought, as he prepared to make one of the hardest choices of his life. He hesitated for a moment, thinking.

"Look, Granger, I screwed up, okay? I should never have joined _Him__, _and now I don't know what to do. He's threatening my mum, and I... I don't know what to do," he said, voice breaking. He fell back against the tree, tears threatening to spill over.

"If you want to know what a man's like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals." She said automatically, ire lacing her voice. She paused for a moment, taking a breath, before she seemed to calm down. Hermione hesitated, checking behind her in case it was a trap, before she squatted to her knees. She tentatively reached out an arm to him, placing it on his shoulder.

"Are you alright, Malfoy?" Hermione asked softly. He didn't hear her, though, as his eyes took in her rugged look. Her wild, frizzy hair had been calmed into a tight braid that looked like it hadn't been freed in quite a while. And her eyes— Merlin, _her eyes._ They didn't show the anger or shock he expected, they showed concern, and... was that... compassion?

"No, Granger, I'm not. I don't know why I'm here," he said, growing angry now. "I can't tell you what I have to do…" Draco ranted, banging his wand against his leg, making sparks fly out the tip.

"It's - it's all right, Malfoy… Well, no it's not, but you know what I mean," Hermione said, sitting fully down next to him. "It's just this war—it's so _draining_."

"I know what you mean. I'm just ready for it all to be over, but it won't be over forever, it seems."

Hermione's shoulders sagged as her face fell. She closed her eyes and let out a long, shuddering breath. After a moment, she opened her eyes again.

"I know. I just - I just need this war to end. Sooner than later. It's just…" she trailed off, staring into space.

Draco let out a derisive laugh. "Everyone feels that way, Granger."

Hermione only shook her head. "No, Malfoy, you don't get it. I'm running out of time."

Platinum blond eyebrows furrowed as a look of confusion crossed his face. Upon noticing this, Hermione shook her head again and let out a shaky laugh.

"Merlin, I don't even know why I'm telling you this. I mean, you're supposed to be the enemy, and everything… and even Harry and Ron don't know yet…"

"Know what, Granger?" Draco quietly pressed.

Hermione bit her lip, staring at something far away as she hesitated.

"I-I've got a disease - a Muggle disease. It's called leukemia."

At his confused look, she sighed and went on.

"It's like a blood curse. It means I'm dying, slowly and painfully, just not slowly enough. Kind of ironic, isn't it? I'm scared I might die too soon when I'm dying anyways," she said, breaking into a fit of laughter.

The sound reminded Draco of his crazy Aunt Bella's laugh, manic and panicky.

"You're—you're dying, Granger?" Draco asked, aghast.

Hermione only nodded.

The wheels started to turn in Draco's head. Hermione was in pain and dying anyway, and this could save his mother. He took a deep, resolute breath and stood up, pointing his wand at her shakily.

"Mal-malfoy?" Hermione asked, falling out of her crazed state.

Draco could only stare at her blankly.

"It's for the best, Granger."

* * *

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed! If you did, please review! I'd love to hear from you!**


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